A Dragon in Swan's Clothing
by Boobies of Power
Summary: One prince. One princess. One warlock. One bodyguard. Mix well and sprinkle with feathers.
1. The Princess & Her Best Friend

Author: Boobies of Power  
Division of Labor: Rally (grunt, typist, plot) & Ladybug Oblivion (art director, producer, come upper of title, plot)  
Date: May 18, 2007

A/N: This is a joint Pizza Hut Challenge of Ladybug Oblivion and Rally, conceived in a day not in Pizza Hut but in Panera Bread, T.G.I. Friday's and in a brief bout before the movie at MJR Theater.

Disclaimer/Warnings: We don't own, nor will we ever own Mobile Suit Gundam Wing or any of its characters, which is mostly a good thing for the G-boys. Pairings are completely a secret until a later date. There will be no spoilers or intentional character bashing, but there will be some violence, a little shonen-ai (which means boys kissing boys so, if you don't like that take a hike!), a dash of OOC-ness, a lot of AU-ness, potentially a ton of humor and a likable Relena (you heard me!). And yes, it's based on Swan Lake. That's Lady O's fault. The Relena thing is Rally's.

**A Dragon in Swan's Clothing**  
-Prelude-

Once upon a time...

In the far away kingdom of Ch'Ang there lived a young prince in a palace of jade. The prince was beloved of all his people, though not known for a gentle nature or charming disposition. Rather, he was loved for his ebony locks, snow-white skin and strikingly captivating looks. But it would soon come to pass that his beauty would be his downfall, for one day in the frozen month of December there came a mighty warlock to the palace. With but a single look the wizard took a liking to the fair youth and at once decided to make the prince his very own. At midnight, a mere fortnight later, the prince was lured out of the safety of his palace to a nefarious, and yet to this day, mysterious end.

-Excerpt (_Enchanted Princes: Curses Through the Ages_)

* * *

-The Princess and Her Best Friend-

The distinct clanging of metal on metal echoed against the white granite blocks of Sanq Castle. Two figures locked in an intricate dance struck out an eerie rhythm that soon drew a sizable crowd of onlookers. As the fierce battle waged on and a chorus of 'ooh's' and 'aahs' rose up until it was broken by the singular comment, "Oh, that _had_ to hurt!" followed by a burst of applause.

"Heero Yuy," began a very calm, very steady voice, "Next time, I swear to God, you'll be the one with his face in the dirt and his rump in the air."

The young man known as Heero Yuy reached his hand down to the prone teenager. "Get that whining rump of yours up off the ground, Highness, or I'll really give you something to complain about." He pulled the slight figure upright and then retrieved the lost blade. "If I was really out for your blood, dirt in your mouth would be your last concern."

"Then show me the move to counter that swishy thing you did with your sword."

"Swishy?" He scratched his head before continuing. "How many times do I have to go over this? Highness, swordplay is not a science. There's more than one way to counter any given attack. The key is to see ahead and know what your opponent is going to do before they do it."

"How am I supposed to do that and against you of all people? Your expression never flickers, your eyes give nothing away and you make so many feints that everything ends up all topsy-turvy in my head. If I'm ever up against an assassin of your caliber, I'm done for!"

"Assassins don't come at you head on," Heero pointed out. "Highness—"

"Please stop all that 'Highness' crap. The crowd's gone. We've been bickering for the last thirteen years; nobody's interested in watching us anymore."

"Do you want these extra lessons or not?"

"You don't need to get tetchy. I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want them."

"Fine." He held out the extra blade, hilt first. "Then take up your arms, Princess Relena."

* * *

With the exception of the roots of her hair stinging, Relena was entirely numb from head to foot. Her father did not just say what she thought he said. She blinked slowly, twice, before scrubbing her scalp vigorously with both hands to try to scratch away the stinging. Opening her mouth to protest, she caught sight of her half-eaten, quickly cooling dinner and then closed it without breathing a single word.

"Well?" The King was not a patient man under normal circumstances and he liked indecision even less than he liked waiting, but still Relena couldn't assemble a proper response. The king sliced off a small piece of beef, placed it in his mouth, chewed it exactly thirty-five times and then swallowed. "I'm waiting, Relena."

Relena was glad that her father decided to break the news at a family dinner instead of at court; she didn't need an audience for this. There were just six people at the intimate table in the King's own quarters; King Treize, Prince Milliardo, Princess Relena, Heero Yuy, Lady Anne and Father Maxwell. Milliardo was Relena's older half-brother. Milliardo's mother had married Treize when Milliardo was just two years old and Treize was glad to adopt the boy as soon as Relena was conceived. Lady Anne was the King's tactical advisor and, as the queen had passed away three years prior, his current consort. Father Maxwell had served as the Kushrenada family's personal priest for nearly a generation. Heero Yuy had been Relena's playmate and best friend since the poor little child had been found wandering the palace grounds at the approximate age of five. Instead of having the urchin thrown out onto the streets or into one of the city's notoriously under funded orphanages, Relena and Milliardo's mother convinced her husband to keep him.

Relena was taken with the boy immediately. He was so unlike her older brother, who was so much older and so far excelled her in everything that she couldn't even dream of catching up. Heero was quiet almost to the point of silence, but if she did something he didn't like, he'd let her know about it. Though Heero managed to excel her in everything as well, it was without the haughtiness of her brother. He was more than willing to take a step down to give her a hand up. If she were failing a subject, he'd coach her until she caught on. Likewise if she were doing well, he'd push her hard enough that she could surpass him. He was never too busy to listen to her problems and everyday he would find at least five or ten minutes in his jam packed schedule to greet her a good day. She was eight when she realized she was in love.

When she had turned thirteen, Relena thought she had gotten over her silly crush. It was foolish, really. Heero Yuy was like a brother; they were pals, nothing more.

She was sixteen when it finally hit her that she was still in love and that she intended to spend her life with him, but she had to wait two more years before she could ask him to marry her. Two years would make him eighteen, giving him the legal right to accept a marriage proposal; the law was very clear on that aspect. The two years were up tomorrow. Her father had impeccable timing, which made it shitty timing on her part.

She wanted to scream, "No!" She wanted to rail against her father's carefully laid plan—for it was both carefully laid and in fact a plan—King Treize never did anything without have half a dozen ulterior motives. She wanted to cross around the table, drop to one knee and propose to Heero in front of her family and God. But she couldn't. She could only sit and think of a way to deny her father's wish without setting him off. "Let me get this straight," she began, using the cultivated voice of a leader-in-training. "You want me to go out into an unknown kingdom to try to find this 'Prince Ch'Ang' who may or may not be alive and if he is alive may or may not be cursed, in the hopes that I can break his possibly not-curse and invoke the right of Dragonslayer?"

"I'm glad we're all on the same page, dear." Relena kept herself from snorting. She hated it when Lady Anne called her "dear." It always held the same flavor as "imbecile."

"This was your idea, wasn't it." It wasn't a question.

Lady Anne ignored the venomous tones of the Princess' statement, taking a sip of her blood-red wine before responding. "Indeed. The Ch'Ang Kingdom is wealthy beyond means and at this point has no true heirs. The Empress died without giving birth to a single female. This Prince Wufei is the eldest son. If you can find him, break his curse and invoke Dragonslayer the Kingdom of Ch'Ang becomes yours."

"What is this 'Dragonslayer?'" The question had come from Father Maxwell.

"Dragonslayer," began Relena before anyone else could answer the question and glorify the answer, "Is a barbaric law that states that if a Prince is held captive by a dragon and that dragon is slain by a Lady, the Prince must marry his rescuer and bequeath all that is his unto her upon wedlock. In the years since, it has been extended to rescuing Princes from various captors, curses, curing them of maladies, et cetera, et cetera."

"Ah..." the elderly priest acknowledged, wiping his mouth and then dropping his napkin onto his plate. "So, that's an actual law. I thought it was more of a—" He waved a hand in front of his face. "A friendly suggestion?"

"Good Heavens, no, Father." Milliardo finally decided to comment on the conversation. "Who'd ever bother to rescue the little brats without handsome compensation?"

Father Maxwell smiled gently. "I think the 'Do unto others...' line would be quite appropriate here as is the 'Covet not thy neighbor's wife..."

The blonde prince's brow furrowed. "Who's wife was that again? I thought we were talking about a prince."

"Ah, yes and a very wealthy prince, at that," added the Lady raising her glass in praise.

"Lady Anne," began Relena, clutching her fork a little too tightly, "_We_ are a 'very wealthy' family. What do we need with more money?"

"It's a perfectly sensible plan." Relena dropped her fork, the ensuing clang reverberating off of her half-empty wine goblet like a death knell. "It's a bloodless way to expand your kingdom, Highness. You can more than triple the size of Sanq in the matter of one ceremony, thusly fulfilling your first duty as queen while still maintaining your philosophy of non-violence."

Relena was used to Heero's matter-of-fact tone, but to hear him casually approve her union to a complete stranger saddened her as much as it pissed her off. "Bloodless, Heero? And what about Prince Ch'Ang? It's his freedom, his home and his future I'd be stealing. How is that bloodless? I've already said it once, but I don't mind repeating: Dragonslayer is a barbaric law. I'll have no part of it."

"Well, then..." King Treize stood. "That sounds like a conclusion to me. Dinner is over. You are all dismissed."

* * *

Relena closed her eyes and leaned her head against the night-chilled stone of the castle wall. Her father had wasted no time after dinner. He'd marched straight to the Grand Hall and announced the Princess Relena Grand Quest. Though it was hardly appropriate he even went so far as to declare that she'd be departing the very next day. The Court assemblage couldn't have been more pleased with the announcement. The Princess departing on a Grand Quest could only bring them good things: a royal wedding with freshly uncursed, foreign prince known as the Pearl of the Eastern Empire, new lands, kingdom riches, trade routes and enough gossip fodder to keep them blathering for years. Relena snorted. Spoiled, overfed bastards, the lot of them!

"Relena?"

She didn't bother to look; she already knew who it was.

"Do not ignore me." The tone, however, was a bit more indignant that she'd predicted.

Now, she opened her eyes. "I didn't ignore you. I simply chose not to respond. That is one of a Royal's prerogatives, if I remember my protocol lessons correctly."

"It is, but you've never stood on protocol with me before." There was a pause for two heartbeats. "Oh, I see. You're angry."

"Of course I'm angry, Heero." She slapped a fist into the wall. "There's no reason for me to _not_ be angry. Clearly, what my father wants my father gets. Why in God's name did he even bother asking me in the first place? I said no, but I still find myself being packed off to God knows where to find a prince who's probably already dead. Why wouldn't I be hacked off?"

Heero gave her a few seconds to regain her breath before replying. "What I meant was you're angry with me for agreeing with His Majesty."

"Oh." She shook the still stinging hand. "No, I'm not angry with you, Heero." Disappointed? Maybe. Angry? No.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Good." There was a distinct feel of unhappiness in that single word.

"Why?"

"I don't want to leave here on unpleasant terms."

Relena felt her stomach drop. "What do you mean, leave here on unpleasant terms?"

"King Treize has seen fit to send me to Peacemillion, gotten Father Maxwell to authorize my entry into the Officer's Academy and has arranged for my departure at dawn."

Her father was sending Heero away to train in a career that would keep him away indefinitely. Son-of-a-Bitch! Now, she was angry. "And you _agreed_ to this?"

"Of course."

"Of course..." Relena repeated agreeably with a nod. And then she exploded. "What the hell do you mean 'Of course'?"

"It is a prime offer. As an officer, I would have job security and the means to provide for myself." All were good points but it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself rather than her.

Relena stepped in closer to get a better view of Heero's eyes. She was still an appropriate three paces away from him, but even with the distance she was confident that if he reacted to her next question she'd be able to spot it. "Heero, do you want to be an officer?" It happened. He reacted. His focus shifted to her eyes for the barest fraction of a moment before regaining a look of bored interest. If his answer was yes, then Relena was resolved to send him off with a smile, but if it was anything other than that three-letter word...

"That is not my decision."

She hadn't gotten a proper answer and already a plan was forming. Relena kept the smile forming in her heart from appearing on her lips. "That wasn't the question. The question was, Heero, do you want to be an officer?"

He considered for a moment before replying, "I don't know."

"Good." The smile broke free. "Then you're coming with me."

* * *

In the end there wasn't much King Treize could say against his daughter's demand that Heero accompany her on her Grand Quest. The boy was one of the finest swordsmen in the palace and would already have had a high rank in the guard if he hadn't insisted that he was only taken in to be a companion to the princess. Keeping her company was his duty. He was hard working, trustworthy and fiercely loyal. He was the best choice to send with her on her journey.

If he denied her demand, it would seem that he had only sent her on the quest as a means of separating the two of them. He had, but that was beside the point. If she came back successful from the mission, Heero would still be shipped off to Peacemillion and Relena would have a new husband to fawn over. If she came back unsuccessful he'd deal with that situation as it arises, but with a few well-placed commands to a certain fiercely loyal bodyguard that wasn't a likely outcome.


	2. The Ballad of Mr Thurston Hargreaves IV

Author: Boobies of Power  
Division of Labor: Rally (grunt, typist, plot) & Ladybug Oblivion (art director, producer, come upper of title, plot)  
Date: May 18, 2007

A/N: This is a joint Pizza Hut Challenge of Ladybug Oblivion and Rally, conceived in a day not in Pizza Hut but in Panera Bread, T.G.I. Friday's and in a brief bout before the movie at MJR Theater.

Disclaimer/Warnings: We don't own, nor will we ever own Mobile Suit Gundam Wing or any of its characters. They are owned by Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. Pairings are completely a secret until a later date. There will be no spoilers or intentional character bashing, but there will be some violence, a little shonen-ai (which means boys kissing boys so, if you don't like that take a hike!), a dash of OOC-ness, a lot of AU-ness, potentially a ton of humor and a likable Relena (you heard me!). And yes, it's based on Swan Lake. That's Lady O's fault. The Relena thing is Rally's.

**A Dragon in Swan's Clothing**  
-The Ballad of Mr. Thurston Hargreaves IV-

Months they had been on the road and still no real leads as to where this "Prince Ch'Ang" had gotten himself off to. Months. The two had investigated possessed forests, cursed glens, enchanted lakes, damned caves, haunted ruins, a barn that mysteriously glowed on the fourth of December, a sheep that meowed and an entire village of children and still nothing. They had worked their way across the entire eastern border of Sanq and were now in the northern region of the bordering country Shenlong. The latest investigation was a twist on the possessed forest. It was supposedly a possessed forest surrounding some haunted ruins on the shores of an enchanted lake. Relena snorted just thinking back on their source of information. That village, by far, was filled with the most useless people she'd come across on her journey.

That morning had started out like any other. Relena and Heero had broken camp and followed the road to the next town. The village's name was Smithton, by way of more than three-quarters of the villagers were of the Smith family. It was a broken down old place that, according to what Relena had managed to gather, never once housed an actual Smithy. They hit town (by town see: the local pub) at the strangely convenient hour of noon. The duo took a few moments to have lunch and then split up, covering the crowded room with practiced ease. Heero headed for the biggest table of men in the room, while Relena hit the barkeep.

The Barkeep was a grizzled old woman with beady eyes and a huge hooked nose that sported a hairy mole at the very tip. Her brownish hair sat in limp, greasy clumps on her crooked shoulders. She grinned as Relena approached, displaying a mouthful of decaying teeth. The princess smiled back, vowing not to breathe through her nose until she was far, far away from the foul woman.

"Good Afternoon, Goodwife."

The woman nodded and growled some sort of reply that may have been, "Afternoon," but could just have easily been, "Bugger Off!"

"I was wondering if you could do me a service?"

"Don' do nuthin' fer free, young 'un." Funny, how _that_ response was intelligible.

Relena avoided rolling her eyes through sheer will alone and threw on her "stupid rich girl" outfit. She blushed a pretty shade of pink, covered her mouth delicately with her fingers and giggled. "Oh, forgive me, Goodwife. I do have _some_ money if that is what you require, but my escort and I are so far from home and I'm afraid that we are quite lost." She placed one silver coin on the bar. It was probably more money than this wretch of a woman had seen in her lifetime. "This is all I have for now, but I assure you that my daddy will reward you handsomely if you would assist me in finding my way home."

The Barkeep's hand slapped down and snatched up the coin before Relena could change her mind. She'd taken the bait. Not that Relena had any doubts. "Where's yer da live?"

"Oh, goodness. I'm not sure. We've been heading north, you see, but we just can't seem to find it."

"Name th' town, gel!"

"Oh," Relena exclaimed trying to appear both surprised and a little put off and not tired and impatient. Which she was. Acting like a nitwit was hard work. "Adamsburry. Daddy lives in Adamsburry." She had chosen Adamsburry only because it was a fairly large city north of their current location.

"Adamsburry," the woman mused. "That's north o' us, fer sure. Jes keep on th' road ya been on. Now, 'bout a 'alf a day from 'ere's a fork. Ya want th' lef' path, no' th righ'. Th' lef' one'll ge' ya ta Adamsburry in 'bout three weeks. Remember wha' e'er ya do, don' take th' righ' path."

"What happens if we take the road to the right?"

"Aside from gettin' lost ag'in?" Relena nodded. "'orrible thin's down tha' road, lass. 'orrible." The woman shuttered. "A man wha' follows tha' path inta th' fores' sure ta never be seen ag'in."

"Forest?"

"Aye, young 'un. They say there used t'be a 'uge castle in the middle of tha' forest. Th' castle was owned by a terrible ogre who caught fairies ta do 'is evil biddin'. It's e'en said tha' 'e caught a water goddess an' trapped 'er in the lake."

"Uh, lake?"

"Aye, lake. A 'uge crystal clear 'un. S'pposed t'be cold as ice all summer long, too."

In Relena's opinion it was now a proven fact that if a bumpkin got started telling a local legend, story or superstition, there wasn't anything in the entire universe that could stop them before the tale was through. She stifled a sigh, stole chair from the nearest table and settled in till the end.

* * *

Heero stared down at his contact, one Miss Merriweather Evangeline Smith. He blinked hard but the sight before him didn't change. The little girl that stared back at him was approximately three years, four months old, with brown eyes and hair. Her hair was done up in pigtails, though one was skewed toward the bottom of her head, the other toward the top. Her dun-colored dress was more of a smock and she was shoeless. Below one arm, pinned at the neck, was the most horrifying stuffed doll Heero had ever had the chance to lay eyes on. It looked like it used to be a bear wearing a miniature version of a blue corduroy jumper, but it was missing both ears and one eye. The other eye hung by a lone yarn. And, as it turned out, Miss Merriweather was a thumb-sucker.

"You?" He began in monotone. "State your name and rank."

She popped the thumb out of her mouth. "Siw! Mewwiwethew Eva-Eva-Evaween Smif! Civviwen! Siw!" Thumb was promptly popped back in.

Heero was somewhat impressed. For some odd reason, most children will, at best, start crying whenever he addressed them. At worst, they'd run off screaming. "Miss Merriweather, I have been informed that you have information regarding the 'Forest of the Lost' as you locals call it."

Thumb out. "Siw! Yes, Siw!" Thumb in.

"Good." Heero's state had been upgraded to very impressed. "I need road maps marking all possible entrances and exits, topographical layouts, weather reports for the next six days and≈if possible≈a list of all native wildlife, including game trails and demonstrations of birdcalls."

Thumb out. "Siw! Can do! Siw!" Thumb in.

Doubt began to creep its way in. After all she was just a three year, four month old child, but if the girl said she had it covered, Heero was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. "I'm also going to need to know everything you know about what's going on in that forest."

Thumb out. "Siw! Yes, Siw!" But wait, no thumb back in. Instead, she huddled over the stuffed doll for a few seconds whispering incoherently. "Siw! Mr. Thurston Hargreaves IV said that there's a pwincess twapped by a dwagon. The dwagon chases hew awound to twy to eat hew." Thumb back in.

Dragon? Princess? Neither of these had come up in any of the prior reports on the forest. And Mr. Thurston Hargreaves the Fourth? There were also no indications of nobility taking up residency in Smithton. "Who is this Mr. Hargreaves and is he a reliable source of this information?"

The thumb didn't immediately pop back out. Miss Merriweather crossed her eyes and then gave her thumb a couple of hard sucks, apparently taking a moment to consider the question. Eyes uncrossed. Thumb out. "Siw! Mr. Thurston Hargreaves IV is a vewy, vewy weliabew sowce. He has tea an' cwumpets wif the pwincess fwee times a week an' sometimes on Satewday. Siw!"

Highly confusing. Almost vexing. The information just wasn't lining up correctly according to Heero's mental report form. According to his information, which he'd be the first to admit _did_ come from a load of drunkards, the forest was a place that was one could to get into, but could never leave. Such a lonely place. Hmm... Sounded like it needed to be written into a song.

Heero shook his head, feeling his own eyes uncross. Focus, Yuy, focus. "Right. How much time do you need to recon, gather your sources and get back with me."

Thumb out. "Siw! It's aweady finished! Siw!" Another pause on the thumb return. Miss Merriweather reached into the pocket of the bear's jumper, pulled out a folded up slip of paper and then handed it to Heero. Thumb in.

Heero accepted the parcel, despite the generous coating of Miss Merriweather's saliva. That was fast. "Thank you," he managed, past his amazement. "You are dismissed."

Thumb out. "Siw! Yes, Siw!" She gave a sharp salute, popped her thumb back in her mouth, turned on her heel and was off. Heero saluted the retreating figure.

* * *

And, so, this was how the two found themselves facing an old rickety "Do Not Enter" sign at the entrance to the forest proper. Relena looked up. The bright green foliage swayed gently in the evening breeze and one or two of the local birds wistled a jaunty melody. She redirected her gaze. The way ahead was almost sunny, despite the lush vegetation above and the path itsself looked well worn. No one has ever returned from the dreaded "Forest of the Lost." Yeah, right. Relena kept herself from snorting as she crossed the threshold, waited a couple of seconds, in case Hell needed a bit of time to descend, and then stepped right back out.

"I don't know about you, but I see nothing out of the ordinary here. And the most menacing thing I saw when I was in there was a fly being devoured by a spider. Are we really going to go through with this one, Heero? Those people were all complete wackos."

Heero gave her his mission face. "We owe it to the Prince to check out every possible lead and I have it on the highest authority that there is definitely some sort of curse based at the center of this forest."

"That reminds me," said Relena, turning to face the forest again, "Who was your source anyway?"

Heero opened his mouth, probably to reply that he prefers to keep his sources confidential, but nothing ever came out. A warcry cut through the tranquility of the evening.


	3. Bloody Massacre of a Lone Bandit Gang

Authors: Rally (grunt, typist, plot) & Ladybug Oblivion (art director, producer, resident overlord, come upper of title, plot)  
E-mail: ,  
Date: June 26, 2007

A/N: This is a joint Pizza Hut Challenge of Ladybug Oblivion and Rally, conceived in a day not in Pizza Hut but in Panera Bread, T.G.I. Friday's and in a brief bout before the movie at MJR Theater.

Disclaimer/Warnings: We don't own, nor will we ever own Mobile Suit Gundam Wing or any of its characters. They are owned by Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. Pairings are completely a secret until a later date. There will be no spoilers or intentional character bashing, but there will be some violence, a little shonen-ai (which means boys kissing boys so, if you don't like that take a hike!), a dash of OOC-ness, a lot of AU-ness, potentially a ton of humor and a likable Relena (you heard me!). And yes, it's based on Swan Lake. That's Lady O's fault. The Relena thing is Rally's.

**A Dragon in Swan's Clothing**  
-The Bloody Massacre of a Lone Bandit Gang (or) I Thought She Was a _Pacifist_?-

The war cry hailed a montage of sweaty faces, greasy heads and death throe screamsswansongs, as Relena had dubbed themand though it was quite the pack of brigands, Heero was not impressed with the overall training and skill of the offending bandits. He was, however, quite taken aback by the sheer number of the little shits. Each time one would fall, two more would rise to take his place. Heero fought back the latest onslaught and took quick glance to the left. It revealed that the Princess was, as of yet, unharmed, leaning against the trunk of a birch tree and taking a moment to buff her nails. The brigands hadn't touched her. It seemed that Heero was the target.

Noticing her bodyguard's focus, Relena looked up, absently blew on her nails and then raised a hand. "You finished yet? I'm bored."

"Two minutes, Relena," he managed before the enemy pounced all at once, burying him under a pile of stinking thieving flesh. Two minutes did not prove to be a sufficient estimation of the elimination of a mere bandit gang but it was just enough time for Heero to finally wade himself out of the pile.

One of the brigands cackled, crawling to his feet and wiping his mouth with the back of a sleeve. "Aw, bite yer lip there, pretty-boy?"

The statement was incredulous. Heero Yuy, bite his lip? Impossible.

Wait a minute. His lip did sting a little. Heero's hand rose to his lips of it's own accord. It pulled back. His finger was spotted lightly with red. His lip was bleeding.

Oh, shit.

All of the normal sounds of the forest were swallowed up by a preternatural silence and time did a damned fine imitation of stopping as Heero shifted his focus from that tiny drop of blood on his finger to the Princess. Relena was gone.

Heero ducked and then rolled to the side as a fountain of red sprayed over his former location. And then, from the opposite direction of the blood sprinkler there came a hideous sound. It was something in between the cry of a panther and the scream of a dying man. Oh, wait. That part _was_ the scream of a dying man. Heero ducked and rolled again, snagging his travel pack as he passed it and putting a tree to his back. From inside the pack he pulled out a small yellow pouch that held a folded up piece of oilcloth. He snapped his wrist, opening the oilcloth in a single move and then wrapped it around himself. He was just in time. A severed hand hit him square in the chest. "Can you please not aim for me?" It was a useless question, he knew, but he had to get it out there.

Heero was squinting through the red spray, trying to make some sense of the death and destruction around him when he noticed that Relena's sword was innocently propped up next to her pack. His eyes were pulled down to the hand that held his own sword. If her sword was there and his sword was here then what the hell was causing the blood orgy and flying body parts?

His mind flashed back to the last image he had of Relena. She was leaning against a tree, buffing her nails. His eye twitched. No, she was filing her nails. The same eye twitched again. Filing her nails... Filing her nails... He looked up. There was a circle of carnage, outlined in bright crimson, that encompassed the entire clearing, up to but not quite including Heero's toes and Relena had done all of that with a mere nail file. He got hit by an ear.

It was time to end this. "Stop." He got hit by an elbow.

"It's over." This time half a head.

"Ollie ollie oxen free." Another hand.

"They're all dead." Money pouch.

Oooh! Money pouch. That was worth saving. It found a new home in Heero's pack.

Heero finished stashing his new treasure, took a deep breath and, in his softest tone, breathed, "Relena?"

Relena looked up with a sweet smile. "Yes, Heero." She was all innocence despite the splatters of various body fluids coating her peony traveling dress and the still-dripping instrument of death clasped tightly in her right hand.

"You did it again."

"What?" She looked down, eyes going wide. "Oh, I have, haven't I?" She shrugged. "So, do you want to clean up or should I?"

"You kill it, you gut it," was his only response.

* * *

Two hours later found them checking out of the Smithton Inn, freshly bathed and smelling of lavender. "Are you sure you don't want to stay the night?"

Relena shivered. "I'm not staying in Freakston any longer than absolutely necessary. I'd rather sleep in the 'Forest of the Lost'." She had said the last bit in a fake deep tone, cupping her hands around her lips and repeating the 'Lost' four or five times in a bad imitation of an echo.

"It's nearly sunset," protested Heero stubbornly.

"It's nearly sunset," a voice echoed from somewhere inside the building they had just exited.

That's strange, Relena thought. It must be catching.

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" continued the voice.

"Yeah! Yeah!" responded a new voice. "How many times do I have to tell you, I'll be fine?" A head poked briefly out of the building before disappearing back into the darkened recesses of the inn, trailed by a long brown braid. "Oh, crap! Look at the time! I really gotta go, Annabelle. Kiss, kiss. Give the husband my best."

"Sure thing, Duo." The first voice again.

The head made a new appearance accompanied by the rest of the second voice's owner and was followed by the owner of the first. The first voice turned out to be the grizzled old barkeep. Only now, she wasn't grizzled in the least. Her formerly rancid locks were clean, dry and pulled back into a neat bun at the base of her neck and her rude disposition and atrocious diction had been magically replaced by that of a loveable grandmother. She was almostdare Relena think italmost squeezable.

The barkeep's companion was a young man dressed exclusively in black. His cobalt eyes shined with harmless mischief above a smile fit for a cat. He stepped out into the road next to Relena, swung a bulging pack over his shoulder and turned to wave goodbye to the barkeep.

As he turned the heavy pack hit Relena in the arm, spinning her off to the side. The young man saw his mistake too late, and reached out to catch her. He managed to snag her wrist, which only served to redirect her path from the hard packed dirt of the road to the horse trough. It had been months since Smithton had seen a horse and anywhere from six months to a year since anyone had cleaned the trough. Relena watched the stagnant water approach in a numb horror. She had just spent an hour scrubbing unidentifiable muck off of her body and sticky body fluids out of her hair. She was on her last set of clean clothes, which also happened to be her favorite traveling dress and she was _not_ spending another hour Smithton.

There wasn't a thing she could do to prevent the inevitable. She did manage to catch and hold her breath as she hit the water's surface.

Her fingernails scraped over the slime coating the inside of the wooden trough as she scrambled for purchase. Eventually, her hand found the rim and she managed to push herself up out of the water. She spotted her assailant, dry as a bone and holding out a hand to help her up.

"Sorry about that," he said, waiting for her to grasp that offered assistance. "Lemme" He broke off.

* * *

Heero was agile, but he wasn't flexible or quick enough to prevent Relena from landing in the water. As she hit, the water splashed over the side, causing the young man who knocked her over to jump away to safety. As soon as he was clear, however, he immediately dashed toward Relena, apologized and moved to help her back up.

And then he flinched, yanking his hand back to safety. Heero refocused on Relena. Her eyes could kill an elephant at a thousand paces and a stop a politician's heart at two thousand. She eased herself into a standing position, never wavering her scorching glare. One foot stepped out of the trough and Heero would have sworn in a court of law that the foot was steaming. The young man took a step back, still cradling his hand. The other foot left the trough bringing along more steam. He scraped a foot back, positioning himself to turn and bolt.

"I," began Relena. "Am," she continued taking a single shuffle forward, a black shoe-shaped singe mark in her wake. "Going." Another shuffle and at this point the steam puffed into smoke. "To." This time a hand compressed into a fist. "_Kill You!_" she ended in a scream.

The assailant let out a high-pitched screech and made use of his preparations, sprinting out of town as fast as his legs could carry him.

Relena wasn't far behind.

Consequently, Heero was forced to leave behind all their supplies and traveling packs to follow at his hardest run. His attempt to catch up was fruitless. The guy, on his own was faster than Heero. With a hell-bent Relena screaming like a banshee and close enough to bite his ass he was the fastest runner Heero had ever laid eyes on.

* * *

"--AAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEE--"

"Scream all you like," the _somewhat_ miffed, very smelly princess yelled to the dead man sprinting for his life ahead of her, "It won't change your fate!" The chase had continued for what felt like miles and she had only just managed to get within two arm lengths of him. The man's foot twisted, causing him to stumble and granting Relena another two feet. Ha! He was beginning to waver! There was no pain for Relena; only a singular purpose, a drive that kept her focus planted firmly on that bouncing length of rope connected to his fat unruly head.

"--AYIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIOOOOOOOOO--"

Five more inches to go. It was all a matter of placing one foot in front of the other.

"--EYUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU--"

Four more inch--Didn't he ever stop to breathe?--No! Focus! Three more inches...

"--AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND--"

Two inches...

"--SOMETIMESWHYYYYYYYYYYYY--"

Her hand stretched out, entering her eye line and Relena's brain refused to acknowledge the perfectly good manicure gone to waste. Those gunk encrusted fingers wrapped around the braid, squeezed and caught nothing but air. The guy had vanished.

There was a strangled "Oof!" off to Relena's left. She skid to a halt, flipped around to face the sound and found her attacker in a tangled heap on the ground with another man standing on top of him. Due to the dim lighting of dusk, Relena couldn't make out any fine details but she could see that the stranger had one foot firmly planted in the middle of the screamer's back; the other was holding Screechy's face in the dirt. She would have silently applauded the beating of the rogue if that attack hadn't resulted in stealing her own revenge.

"Wu-Bear!" cried Screechy. He gave a twist of his hips and, knocked off balance, the stranger hopped off of his victim. Screechy jumped up and immediately latched on to the stranger's legs. "Save me!"


	4. The Curséd Spring, Hóngneechuan?

Author: Boobies of Power  
Division of Labor: Rally (grunt, typist, plot) & Ladybug Oblivion (art director, producer, come upper of title, plot)  
Date: December 27, 2007

A/N: This is a joint Pizza Hut Challenge of Ladybug Oblivion and Rally, conceived in a day not in Pizza Hut but in Panera Bread, T.G.I. Friday's and in a brief bout before the movie at MJR Theater.

Disclaimer/Warnings: We don't own, nor will we ever own Mobile Suit Gundam Wing or any of its characters. They are owned by Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency. We also don't own the cursed springs Jusenkyo of Ranma 1/2. Rumiko Takahashi does. Pairings are completely a secret until a later date. There will be no spoilers or intentional character bashing, but there will be some violence, a little shonen-ai (which means boys kissing boys so, if you don't like that take a hike!), a dash of OOC-ness, a lot of AU-ness, potentially a ton of humor and a likable Relena (you heard me!). And yes, it's based on Swan Lake. That's Lady O's fault. The Relena thing is Rally's.

**A Dragon in Swan's Clothing**  
-The Curséd Spring, Hóngneechuan?-

The scene that had developed by the time Heero managed to catch up was way beyond the realm of Heero's expectations. He had expected to find Relena standing over the severely beaten remains of the poor bastard she'd been chasing. As he acknowledged the hidden strength and tenacity of said bastard in full gallop, his mind would have accepted finding Relena and the man in the middle of a death struggle. He never considered the possibility of finding Relena in a state other than outrage and he would have downright scoffed at the idea of finding Relena standing calmly with one hand placed lightly on her chest, in rapt fascination of what could only be called a brawl in full swing.

One of the fighters Heero recognized as the young man who'd shoved Relena into the trough. The other was a complete unknown. The unknown was a slight figure striking with hard precision in graceful moves that encompassed the entirety of the battlefield. The graceful warrior let a kick fly and Heero could almost hear the crack of connection, but the other had dodged it with almost inhuman speed, stepping to one side and tapping the unknown twice on the shoulder. Heero felt an eyebrow rise.

"Listen, Wuwu..." the young man began, before being forced to dodge another kick and then a punch. "We have guests," he finished, simply leaning out of the way of the next punch and hopping over the next kick. Heero's other eyebrow joined the first.

It was the most beautiful thing Heero had ever seen. The young man seemed to anticipate and was ready with an appropriate response for every move his opponent made. This was what he had been trying to teach Relena since he'd taken over for her sword instructor and he hoped she was paying close attention.

"Can't we pick this up later," continued the man through various dodges. "Alright, fine then." This time he didn't dodge the punch, he caught it and then turned his opponent to face Relena. "Wuffles, Girl-I-Knocked-Into, Girl-I-Knocked-Into, Wuffles." His opponent wrenched his fist free and launched a kick. The man caught the kick and the sneak attack punch following it and then turned his opponent, once again, this time to face Heero. "Draggy, Guy-With-Girl-I-Knocked-Into, Guy-With-Girl-I-Knocked-Into, Draggy."

This elicited a non-physical response out of the graceful warrior. "Don't call me 'Draggy,' Maxwell!"

"Don't call me 'Maxwell,' Draggy!" replied the other, in kind and Maxwell proceeded to rub salt in the proverbial wound by sticking out his tongue, pulling down the bottom of his right eye and asking, "If not 'Draggy' then how 'bout 'Tweety?'"

The response was instantaneous and loud. Wuffles—Heero had mentally deemed this tag the least likely to be offensive—had convulsed into a frenzy of action. This round most of his attacks were landing but the Maxwell fellow seemed to be holding up quite well, as he had only let out a couple of grunts and moans to reveal his pain. The battle raged on for a couple of minutes more before Maxwell began making obscene comments in-between the grunts and drawn out moans.

After a slap to the face, "You know, your caresses always make me hot." Wuffles launched a particularly hard kick to the solar plexus, only to have his foot caught and then fondled by Maxwell. "Let me leave a trail of kisses to your impassioned glory." Wuffles ruthlessly tore his foot to freedom and gave Maxwell an appalled glare with a hint of terror. "Hmm... Guess not." Wuffles pulled himself out of his stupor and broke into an attack that seized Maxwell's braid and had his right arm twisted up around his back, "This could work." Maxwell licked Wuffles' cheek. "I knew you liked it rough, but I never dreamed of bond—" That sentence was never finished as Wuffles had shoved Maxwell away as if he'd been burned, rubbed the slobber off of his face and stalked off into the undergrowth.

"Ha!" Maxwell laughed as he turned to Heero and Relena. "That never fails to stop him."

Neither of them replied, but Heero noticed that Relena had taken on a slightly flushed coloring.

"Right then," said Maxwell brushing off his clothes. "I'm Duo and welcome to my humble abode." He bowed low to Relena. "Please accept my deepest apologies. If you'd follow me, I can make sure you get a hot bath, a hot meal and a decent night's sleep."

* * *

Relena blinked a couple of times at the offer before her brain kicked in to decipher it for her. Her ears still burned. That was positively the dirtiest speech--

"Thank you," replied Heero from her left, his monotone revealing nothing of how that nasty scene affected him. "Relena?"

Unwilling to trust her voice, Relena merely nodded. The rogue-turned-host—Relena still wasn't sure exactly how that came about--lead them deeper into the forest, which the princess had only just realized was the so-called "Forest of the Lost" and some of the Barkeep's words from that afternoon returned. "Isn't there supposed to be a lake somewhere around here? I really am too disgusting to enter a proper dwelling. I could wash up in the lake first, if it's not too much trouble."

"Ah," replied Duo. "That's not a very good idea."

"Why not?" asked Heero.

Relena gave a short burst of laughter. "Please don't tell me you buy into that whole, ogres-trapping-water-goddesses-in-the-lake thing. My opinion of you would be completely ruined."

This time Duo laughed. "Not five minutes ago, you promised to kill me and I'm supposed to be worried about my reputation?"

"A lady is entitled to change her mind and I'm quite good at it."

"Consider yourself lucky to be alive," provided Heero with a nod of admiration. "She's nearly impossible to stop when she's in that state."

Duo gave Relena an appraising, yet respectful, inspection. "I guess I'll have to thank Wu-bear for saving my life then, which I'm sure he'll enjoy immensely. It should be entertaining. I think I'll try it over supper. Feel free to watch."

After Duo's little show of proper _skills_ for ending the fight, she was damned sure that she didn't want to watch. So, she tried to tactfully side track the conversation to a cleaner discussion. "Well then, how about that wash."

Duo stopped and turned to his guests. "Is very bad idea," he said in a fake Shenlong accent. "That is one of Curséd Spring Jusenkyo. That is Hóngneechuan: Spring of Drowned Swan. Very tragic story of swan that drown in the spring over three thousand five hundred year ago. If you fall in you take on body of swan.

"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered.

"All the same," Duo sing-songed, dropping the accent and shaking his index finger in time with the melody, "I wouldn't try it if I were you."

"God save me from bumpkins and their damn _legends_!"

Duo merely smiled again and continued leading them to the promised "hot bath, hot meal and a decent night's sleep" in the form of the remains of an ancient stone castle. "Welcome to Casa Maxwell!"

Well, the stories had the forest, the lake and the ruins parts right, but so far there wasn't a damn thing possessed, haunted or enchanted about any of them. Damn waste of time.

To be continued...


End file.
